


Even Now

by wallofglass



Category: Holby City
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallofglass/pseuds/wallofglass
Summary: Henrik and John are awkward but still manage to drink.





	Even Now

**Author's Note:**

> This is shamelessly based more on my headcanons than on any kind of reality, and delves far less into the psyche of John than I would have expected since he’s literally all I think about these days.

‘Have you been avoiding me?’

There is a wryness in John’s smile and a lightness in his tone, but his hand flutters awkwardly and he stays in the shadows beside the entrance, too far away for Henrik to see his eyes. It is unusual for them to be leaving at the same time, and the possibility that John has been waiting, drinking unwanted coffees and watching the lift doors, hangs between them. Henrik moves further out into the night, letting John fall into step beside him.

‘I’ve been adjusting. Getting back into the flow of the hospital. Keeping to myself. I don’t want to tread on any toes with our new CEO.’

John is hunched in his jacket, hands in his pockets, looking even smaller than normal. He walks close to Henrik, bumping into his side. Still awkward.

‘You don’t need to be the CEO to come down and visit you know.’

John’s words are unexpectedly candid and Henrik feels them strum across his heart-strings, only a little out of tune.

‘Why don’t you come over for a drink?’ spills out of his mouth before he can trap it with his teeth, but he’s glad of it. Seeing John gaping and speechless in response reminds him of university and the little working class boy looking up at him with admiration. He had always enjoyed impressing John.

‘Alrigh’.’

John would see the dropped T as an embarrassment, he had spent so long smoothing over his accent, only letting it slip out when he was angry, or drunk. Or being fucked.

Best not think about that though.

Henrik opens and closes the car door for John, who twitches his mouth at the misplaced gallantry, and gets in beside him. It’s easier to breathe with his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. John plays with the radio, opting for BBC Radio 4.

‘Whatever happened to you John, you used to listen to Bob Dylan on those copied cassette tapes.’

A proper laugh.

‘I got old. Older. I suppose you still listen to all that weird classical on vinyl,’ the last word drawn out in gentle mockery.

-

It only takes three drinks for Henrik to become maudlin. His son’s name clinking in the air like ice cubes. John stopped drinking his whisky on the rocks years ago, adopting Henrik’s preferred drop of water.

‘I don’t know what to do John. I don’t know how to talk about it.’

It takes five drinks for John to move onto the sofa beside him and touch his shoulder, offering the physical comfort he has always been best at.

‘We don’t have to talk about it.’

So they don’t. They talk about university, and those late night library coffee breaks, and the time John’s parents came to visit and Henrik greeted Mr. Gaskell: plumber, in a bow tie and cummerbund on his way to a society dinner.

It takes nine drinks for John to slide to his knees, and one more, quickly downed by Henrik, for him to be dragged back up and kissed thoroughly.

‘I’m not letting you kneel on the rug John’ said over the rattling of shirt buttons scattering across the floor.

-

‘I’ve always liked your accent.’

John looks dazed, tousled hair and flushed cheeks. He is curled up to Henrik’s side, but doesn’t press too close. Still awkward even now.

‘Which one?’

A proper smile, the first in months. Henrik’s face aches with it, and he tries to ignore the voices that tell him to stop, that he doesn’t deserve to smile. John is asleep before he can think of a clever answer, and Henrik kisses the side of his head lightly, tentatively, still a little awkward.


End file.
